


Druid and the Beast

by Venrajade



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Banter, Derek Needs a Hug, Fluff, General cuteness punctuated by mob violence, Happily Ever After, Hurt/Comfort, Kate gets what's coming to her, M/M, Not really beauty!Stiles, Prince Derek, Snowball Fights, Some twists to the original story, Sort of Gaston!Kate, cuddling by the fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7008862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venrajade/pseuds/Venrajade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In honour of the new Beauty and the Beast trailer:<br/>Once upon a time… in a faraway land lived a young Prince in a castle. The Prince was cursed by a darach into his Alpha form to be locked away forever unless true love's kiss breaks the spell by his 21st birthday.<br/></p><hr/><p>"Which is why…" Stiles said as he led his horse Phillipe and Scott through the forest. "We have to go to the castle because SOMEONE got bit by an alpha and tried to eat their friend last night during the full moon. Also, my dad went to the castle to get you help and hasn't returned so he's probably in werewolf prison right now."<br/>"Werewolves don't exist, Stiles!" Scott exclaimed. "I know you and your dad are from.. elsewhere, but I can tell you for certain that werewolves aren't real! This is why everyone thinks you're weird, Stiles."<br/>"Rude."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Enchanted Castle

Once upon a time… in a faraway land (that was totally not France because everyone spoke English with American accents except for the few people who had a French accent) lived a young Prince in a castle.

            The Prince had everything he ever wanted and he was a bit spoiled but he was generally very giving until his parents died which turned him into a grumpy boy because grief will do that.

            Until one day a druid named Julia came to the door and offered him a single rose in exchange for shelter at the palace. Knowing that strange druids were not to be trusted, the young Prince turned her away. She warned him, but the Prince dismissed her again.

            The druid's beauty melted away and she revealed herself to be a darach, a corrupt druid. The Prince begged for the safety of his sisters, but the darach killed them and placed a curse on the castle and all who lived there.

            The Prince was transformed into his alpha form, ashamed and unwilling to let his family's secret out, the Prince barricaded the castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose was enchanted, and would bloom until his 21st year. If he could learn to love another and be loved in returned before the last petal fell it would break the spell. If not, he would be doomed to remain in alpha form for all time.

\-----------

"Which is why…" Stiles said as he led his horse Phillipe and Scott through the forest. "We have to go to the castle because SOMEONE got bit by an alpha and tried to eat their friend last night during the full moon. Also, my dad went to the castle to get you help and hasn't returned so he's probably in werewolf prison right now."

"Werewolves don't exist Stiles!" Scott exclaimed. "I know you and your dad are from.. elsewhere, but I can tell you for certain that werewolves aren't real! This is why everyone thinks you're weird, Stiles."

"Rude," Stiles said, affronted. "Listen Scotty, I know we live in a poor-ass provincial town whose star citizen is that arrogant-as-fuck hunter Kate, but I'm telling you I'm right."

"Whatever man, let's just get there and find your dad and get out of here. This forest is creepy," Scott shivered. Who thought it was a good idea to go trampling through the woods?

            It took the pair less time than Stiles thought it would to reach the castle and soon enough they were making their way across a bridge leading to the foreboding looking structure.

"Stiiiiles?"  
"Yeah Scott, spooky huh? A perfectly good cursed castle to be sure."

            The wind was biting as they made their way across. Stiles tried to hide himself behind Phillipe to keep warm but it was futile. Scott didn't seem that bothered which made Stiles wonder why Scott kept on denying his new supernatural nature. Soon enough they were at an impressively tall door.  
"So.. do we knock?" Stiles asked, "like, what is the etiquette here?"

"I don't know! This was all your idea," Scott glared.

"Welp, I say we walk in and apologize later, I'm freezing!" Stiles knocked and entered, Scott following closely behind.

"Hellooooo?" Called Stiles. "Anybody hoooome?"

"Who goes there?" Boomed a loud voice as both boys entered the castle, making them jump. Stiles quickly glanced around and noticed the dimly lit large entry hall. It was a lot better kept than Stiles thought it would be, though a bit foreboding. A few more candles and the castle could be downright cozy.

            A large shadow came at them and soon Stiles was face to face with a snarling beast of a man. Stiles heart skyrocketed as the shock of being surprised over took him.

"This is private property!" The beast shouted in his face. Stiles could hear Scott screaming in fear beside him.

"Not so fast!" Stiles said and produced a small satchel, he threw the satchel above his head and a powder dispersed in a perfect circle around him and Scott.

"Huh?" Scott said, confused when he tried to step back but couldn't.

"Where did you get that?" The beast said confused, stepping away from the pair.

"The mountain ash? Made it," Stiles said, hands slightly trembling from the adrenaline, but he was very proud at it actually working. He'd never actually had to USE any of his magic before, not when it counted. Stiles blinked and finally looked at their attacker.

"No eyebrows, bushy sideburns, red glowing eyes?" Stiles turned around poking Scott in the chest. "See? Tip to toe that sure is an alpha werewolf!"

"Oh my god," Scott exclaimed faintly.

"Who are you?"

            Stiles turned back. The wolf looked.. adorable? His pointy ears were slightly drooping and he had a truly perplexed look on his face.

"Your majesty," Stiles said. Because as much of an asshole as he was, he was trying to get this Prince's help. "Stiles Stilinski, druid-in-training here formally requesting your help in the case of my best friend Scott McCall." He bowed, and he could hear Scott whispering "druid?"

"There were no other druids in the kingdom when the curse occurred ten years ago," came another voice. At the top of the steps were two women, one short with long red hair and the other with blonde wavy hair and smoky eye makeup,  "Deaton and Morrell were subdued by the darach."

"Well, good thing I'm not from this kingdom then," Stiles said good naturedly, smudging the mountain ash circle and stepping out of it. The werewolf eyed him warily but allowed him further into the room. "Me and my dad moved here a year ago. Scotty and I," Stiles said pointing over his shoulder at the dumbfounded Scott, "became best friends pretty much instantly. Too bad this sucker was out late one night about a month ago and got bit-- I told him he got werewolfed but he wouldn't believe me. I tried helping him during the full moon but the most we could do was chain him up."

"You chained me up?" Asked Scott.

"He was so out of it he doesn't remember anything," Stiles said to the Prince who was looking at him appraisingly. "Basically we need your help as you are the only werewolves I know of in this area.. unless you were the one who bit him?"  
"No!" Growled the Prince, "No, we can barely exit the castle past a few miles, how could I?"

            Stiles put up his hands in mock surrender, "alright, I didn't mean it or else I wouldn't have come all this way."

            The Prince stared at Stiles, Stiles stared right back, refusing to submit. After a long moment the werewolf looked at Scott who was trying desperately not be noticed.

"My mother always said the bite was a gift," the Prince announced to the room. "But without training you'll end up hurting someone." The Prince moved towards Scott who flinched as the Prince's clawed hand landed on Scott's shoulder. "We're brothers now, I'll help train you."  
"Yesss," hissed Stiles. "By the way, do you guys have my dad?"

\---------

"You were keeping him prisoner?" Stiles shouted moving up the stairs to the east wing following the red head and the blonde. Their names were Lydia and Erica and they seemed to always be at each other's throats. Lydia was a little uptight but insanely smart--probably not human. Erica was a wise-ass, she was also a werewolf but unable to access any of her beta shift due to the curse. She said it was almost as bad as being stuck the way the Prince was.

"Not really a prisoner, we just thought he was some average guy who stumbled in and happened to see his broodiness back there. Couldn't have him running back to the village screaming about monsters or else we'd have a mob on our hands," Erica explained.

"Technically we have three prisoners-- but we treat them well, and the two others are here by choice," Lydia added as the trio stopped in front of a set of doors. One among many on this corridor, Stiles figured they must be bedrooms. Lydia knocked before leading him inside.

            In the parlour were three figures playing cards. All three looked up and Stiles immediately zeroed in on his dad.

"Daddy!" Shouted Stiles who met his father in a hug. The other two stood up.

"Monsieur Stilinski, this is Monsieur Argent and his daughter Mademoiselle Allison Argent." The man, Mr. Argent was about his dad's age with salt and pepper in his stubble but otherwise looked healthy and whole. His daughter was likewise well-dressed with a healthy flush, nothing that revealed any sort of mistreatment. The parlour itself was grandly decorated with a warm fire burning and brown ale in his dad's glass, not really what Stiles had in mind when he thought prison.

"Stiles! Where's Scott?" The Sheriff asked.

"The Prince is giving him a rudimentary lesson in "how to werewolf," Scott's being kind of a dick about it."  
            The Sheriff sighed, "he'll come around, son."  
"I know," Stiles nodded. "But why on earth are you a 'prisoner' and why does being a prisoner entail hanging out in a room bigger than our entire house?"

"Couldn't really explain why I was here, it was pretty late so they just threw me in here," the Sheriff looked at Lydia and Erica. "Thanks, by the way."  
            Erica shrugged, "you smell human. We were still deciding what to do."

"At least I had company," the Sheriff gestured to the Argents. "They explained this was a bit more laissez faire than the town jail."

"Well, that's good," Stiles said, not really sure what else to add.

"Either way I need to talk to the Prince. I need to go home."  
"What? Why?" Stiles squawked.

"I have a job, Stiles," the Sheriff explained, unimpressed.

"Well, tell him I'm staying," Stiles huffed. "If he's gonna help Scott I'm gonna try to help him any way I can. I'll even be a prisoner in your place, or whatever."

            The Sheriff side-eyed his son before sighing, "whatever you say kid. I'll try to visit when possible."  
"Thanks Papa."  
"We can escort you to his majesty, Sheriff Stilinski," Lydia offered. The Sheriff nodded and followed Erica out of the room. Lydia levelled a look at Stiles, "you stay here while we decide what to do with you, Druid Stilinski; Allison make sure he doesn't leave," she added before closing the door behind her.

"Hey!" Stiles protested before he slumped and redirected his attention towards the Argents who stared at him. "Um, hi?"  
"Please, sit down," the older Argent asked. Stiles complied and sat in the high-backed chair his father had been in earlier. "So you're a druid?" He asked.

"Well, in training. Or maybe not? Maybe I'm just a druid who doesn't have practical experience," Stiles floundered. He was self-taught, and while he was mostly confident in his abilities he never really had much need for them.

"What do you intend to do to help the Prince?" Argent pried, his daughter kept staring at Stiles as if she was trying to see if she could reveal his honesty.

"Try to figure out how to break the spell? Like I know the story says that only "true love" can break it but that is bullshit because if this is a darach's curse then darach magic works on a corruptive level which is transformative in nature. A kiss or love or whatever doesn't fit the requirements of sacrifice that usually surround darach magic, usually there's some piece of nature that the power is tied to that can be shifted with the appropriate intent."

            The Argents sat there, blinking at the deluge of information that spilled out of Stiles' mouth.

"I mean… there's gotta be a clue in the castle somewhere that holds the key?" Stiles offered meekly. Woops, he forgot he could be a bit much. No wonder the town ostracized him.

"Stiles, that is very honourable.. but I think it will be very hard for you to convince the Prince to let you help," Allison finally spoke up. She had a sweet voice and dimples when she talked, Scott would love her. "Did Lydia tell you why we're here?"  
"No," Stiles shook his head. "Just told me you could leave if you wanted."  
That's right," Monsieur Argent said.

"We're here…." Allison paused, "We're here because my Aunt tricked the Prince." She stood up, and began pacing the room, "after the Prince was cursed, but still when he was a boy, he believed that if he could get someone to love him in his ugly state he would be freed from the curse. My aunt seduced him and he thought the curse would be lifted.. but.. we are, well, we're from a hunting family."

"What?" Stiles paled. Everyone who was supernatural feared hunters.

"When he finally had hope, she torched the enchanted rose-- the timer that delayed the curse's permanence-- in an attempt to kill everyone in the castle. It took out the west wing and the last petal fell off the rose, I'm afraid the Prince does not have any hope that the curse will be lifted."  
            Stiles breathed out, that was quite the story. "Why are you here?"  
"Kate escaped the castle and came home, bragging about what she'd done thinking she had killed everyone," Monsieur Argent stepped in. "You must understand, Lydia and Erica as well as the other wolves in this castle have been cursed longer than they haven't. When the Prince was 15, the rest were 10 and being raised by their parents who were cursed into enchanted furniture. Even though I was a hunter my entire life I couldn't stand the thought that my own flesh and blood murdered a bunch of children, regardless of their werewolf status." He sighed. "I realized that just because they were stronger than us did make them bad, we were the true monsters"

"Papa left me with my mother, and no one would talk about him. I didn't know I was being raised to be a hunter until two years ago when they told me after my mother died," Allison continued explaining when it seemed her father couldn't go on. "I figured that Papa left for a good reason so on my first hunt I came here, I found Papa and he explained everything. I decided to stay, I didn't want to go back to Grandpa and Aunt Kate knowing what they had done." Allison smiled dimples showing, "but don't worry about us, we're practically guests. Lydia's my best friend and she keeps us comfortable and we help out around the castle."

"And the Prince?" Stiles couldn't help but ask, Stiles wasn't sure how he would feel harbouring people trained to kill him.

"Oh, he's no problem. A bit distant but he's very cordial, he even sets up archery courses for Allison sometimes," the older man explained.

            Huh, "wow, he sounds almost--"

"Your father said you were staying," rasped a voice behind him. The Prince stood hunched over with Scott shifting nervously behind him.

"Why yes, your highness." Stiles turned to face the alpha. It was only polite.

            "Hmmph," the Prince scowled  and moved aside so Scott could see better into the room.  
"Scott, this is Chris and Allison Argent, they're… extended guests. Monsieur and Mademoiselle Argent, this is Scott McCall, he is new to the pack," Allison curtsied and Stiles could see Scott blush. Yep, totally his type. "Lydia and Erica will set you both up with bedrooms, you're allowed free reign over the castle but don't leave the walls. Under no circumstances are you to enter the west wing," the alpha said forebodingly.

"Why? 'cause there's cursed objects or ghosts or something?" Stiles rolled his eyes.

"No, because there's structural damage," bit out the Prince.

"Oh! … Uh, thank you," Stiles said before freezing. "Oh my god, are you only wearing a cape and pants?"  
            The Prince's spine went rigid as he shot up. If Stiles didn't know any better he could have sworn the werewolf blushed.

"Good night," the Prince said hastily, "Scott I will see you after breakfast for training."

            The room was silent as the Prince left, bounding down the from the second floor to first, unnecessarily avoiding the stairs. Stiles slowly locked gazes with Scott before frowning and punching his friend in the shoulder,

"I told you werewolves were real!"


	2. Wouldn't it be ironic?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott is stubborn and Derek and Stiles become friends.

            Stiles pretty much passed out once he hit the bed in the room he was provided. He sleeps better than he ever had before and he wondered if it was because of the enchantment. When he woke up, groggy and still half asleep he felt the way the magic of the castle reacted with his own. It was odd, but he would look into it later.

            Lydia barged in and Stiles jolted from the loud intrusion piercing into his drowsy morning thoughts.

"I'll show you how to get dressed, this is a castle after all and you are a royal guest. We can't have you wearing.." She looked at his clothing from the night before which Stiles had inelegantly tossed on the floor, "that, if you are going to stay here."

            Stiles mouth dropped slightly, "excuse me? A) my clothes are perfectly fine, and B) I **know** how to dress myself."

            Lydia sighed and opened the wardrobe.. it was empty?

"There's a bit more to it than regular dressing," Lydia closed the door again. This time she knocked three times on the wardrobe before opening it again. This time there was a bunch of outfits ranging in material, colour, and accessories. "Everything's enchanted, remember? The wardrobe will give you outfits for the day," the redhead gave Stiles a pointed look. "Remember to return the clothes to the wardrobe each day, or else you won't have anything to wear."  
"Whoa.. cool!" Stiles had never thought about some of the more mundane aspects of the enchantment. He guessed everything still made the castle run despite 10 plus years of being cursed.

"You can ask for specific types of clothing, but there's no guarantee she'll accommodate you if she dislikes your sense of style. She will probably give you suggestions which you should probably take since you aren't used to noble fashion," Lydia said with a slight undercurrent of disdain. She was definitely upper-crust, Stiles couldn't tell if he was impressed or affronted by it.

"Wait.. she?" Stiles paused, were these the other people who lived in the castle at the time of the curse?  
"She's not.. sentient. We've tested," Lydia looked uncomfortable. "They can take simple orders and can have some autonomy, but it seems the enchantment has reduced them to their roles… We don't know who is who, just that the servants ended up like this."

"And your parents?" Stiles asked, recalling what Monsieur Argent said the night before.

"They were objects.. but we could communicate, they could move." Lydia looked sad, and Stiles almost offered her comfort, "but when we got older, around sixteen, they went dormant."  
"I'm sorry," Stiles said, unsure of what else he could say.  
"Well, no matter. We've been managing, and we'll be late for breakfast if you keep on dawdling. Get changed and meet in the dining room in ten minutes," with that Lydia turned on a heel and exited.

            Stiles chose a red jacket, white pantaloons, and brown leather boots. It was finer clothing he had ever even looked upon, and he was a bit overwhelmed. He decided against the jacket but kept the red vest-- there, a bit more functional but not disrespectful.. he hoped.

            He appeared to be the last to show up to breakfast, and he was surprised at the amount of people at the table. They were all young, about Derek's age or younger, though they must have all been above 16 if Lydia's fact about their parents was true.

"Stiles!" Scott perked up, Stiles noted he was sitting beside Allison. Stiles decided to sit in the open seat next to Scott and nodded to the rest of the table.

"Have a good sleep?" Erica asked, she was sitting next to a large man who barely acknowledged his arrival as he kept eating.

"Yeah, excellent actually. Thank you."  
"This is my husband, Boyd." Erica shoved the large man a bit with her shoulder. It was only now that Stiles noticed the matching gold rings on their fingers.

Boyd nodded at him, "Hello."

"And this is Isaac and Jackson," Erica gestured to the only two figures at the table he didn't know. Isaac had blondish curly hair, he didn't acknowledge Stiles besides a slight nod. The other boy, also blondish, had straight hair, a wide jaw, and a dimpled chin. He looked haughtier than Lydia.

"Ahem," Jackson coughed into his hand.

"Oh, excuse me, Lord Whittmore." Erica corrected, rolling her eyes. He was clearly dressed more eloquently than everyone, even Lydia. The others seemed to be wearing fine but simple clothing that suited work better than the frock Jackson was in.

"Yeah, no, Jackson will be fine," Stiles asserted, immediately receiving a glare from Jackson in return.

"Ignore him," Lydia said. "We all pull our share of the load, Jackson's a beta like the rest. He acts like an Omega, though."  
Huh, Stiles wouldn't have expected Jackson to be a werewolf. Fur didn't seem like it suited him. "Where's the Prince?" The druid asked when he noticed.

"He doesn't come down for meals much," Monsieur Argent interjected.  
"He'll come down for dinner, but besides that…" Allison added.

"Why, does he sleep in?"  
"No," everyone turned. The alpha walked towards them. Today he was wearing a shirt, a lovely green jacket and black pantaloons and boots that seemed to suit his station while being plain enough for day-to-day wear. "Are you done eating?" He directed at Scott.

"Uh, yeah," Scott stuttered.

"Good. We're going to the court yard for training," the Prince stopped, waiting for his charge.

"What? Now?" Scott asked perplexed, but stood anyways.

"Yes," the Prince turned around and began walking.  
"O-okay, bye Stiles!" Scott began to leave before pausing, "and Allison! And, uh, everyone," the new werewolf added before following his alpha.

"So…" Stiles looked around the table and it seemed that the Prince's arrival spurred everyone to begin putting their dishes away, "what do I do?"

\----------------------

            Turns out not much. Lydia just gave him a look and told him that if they had any leads on how to break the curse, they wouldn't feel so helpless. So Stiles began searching around. Every day while Scott trained with the Prince, Stiles would hunt around the castle looking for clues to unlocking the curse. He found a lot of interesting things with his magic, lay lines, pockets of power, and unstable areas were all things that Stiles felt he could work with. Perhaps if he could reverse engineer the curse he could cast a counter spell to break it, he was getting a lot of possibilities but no strong sign that he was going in the right direction.

            Outside of training, Stiles and Scott hung out and took advantage of living in a castle. That is, until Scott began blowing him off for Allison. At first Scott just led them to group activities in the evenings more, then in the afternoons Scott would beg off of their plans to hang out with Allison.

            Stiles didn't mind, at least not initially. Allison was really nice and Stiles had never seen Scott so smitten, and the fact that Allison seemed to return his affections was enviable. The only problem was that as the weeks went by Stiles found himself alone and bored in the afternoons as the rest of the castle had their own duties and responsibilities.

"What is everyone doing all day anyways?" Stiles asked as he dropped into a chair, startling the Prince. He was working in an office-like space, Stiles had been looking around and happened to spy the alpha from the hallway so he decided he might as well bother the Prince. He was the only one Stiles had not gotten to know yet. The werewolf seemed pretty isolated, he came to dinners but during pack activities in the evening he usually just sat at the edges and didn't participate.

"They're working," the Prince answered once the look of surprise left his face. It was sort of funny how emotions expressed themselves on the wolf's face. The way the ridge of his eyebrows shot up, the 'o' his face tried to make but couldn't because of the fangs in his mouth. Stiles really didn't know why, but he found the alpha adorable, he didn't understand why the stories tried to make it out like he was some kind of beast.

"Working on..? It's been what, 10 years? Surely all the enchanted items can take care of the day to day," Stiles kind of appreciated that his room tidied itself. The only problem was if he couldn't find what he was looking for afterwards.

"Where do you think the food comes from? Or the cloth for your clothes?" The Prince asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Magic?" Stiles asked, though he knew the food at least needed to be real in order to actually sustain anyone.

"No, we still need to purchase any food that we can't grow from outside. The livestock was also enchanted and there's no use in trying to milk a wheel barrow," the alpha stared at Stiles like he was trying to figure out what Stiles wanted. Really all Stiles wanted was company.

"So things can leave the castle? And come in?" Stiles really wondered how that worked.

"Some things, we send out letters and wagons with lists of what we need and what we can sell, but anything more complicated vanishes," the werewolf paused and looked at the letter he was writing before Stiles came in. "I try to.. do some diplomacy, but I always get the same answers. I think it's the enchantment maintaining stasis, no wars are starting, but no new trade routes either."

"That makes sense, your majesty." Stiles nodded, at least the werewolves had something to do to occupy their time.

"Derek."

"What?" Who was Derek?  
"My name.. it's Derek," the Prince looked uncomfortable. "You can call me that if you'd like."  
"The others don’t call you that," Stiles pointed out. Derek rolled his eyes,

"The others do whatever they please without my input," he looked a bit put out.

"Ok… Derek," Stiles tested. Derek smiled.

\--------

            After that Stiles spent all his afternoons and some evenings with Derek while Scott is wooing Allison. Sometimes Derek had to work and when that happened Stiles brings the notes he had gathered so far and worked on them (with the occasional outburst about how stupid the entire thing was.) Most of the time, though, they did lots of things together. They took walks outside where a light layer of snow had settled, they played chess, they even fixed the occasional item in the castle. It didn't really matter what they did, so long as they spent time together.

            Stiles realized his crush on the Prince was getting out of hand. Not only was Derek cute (and honestly? Had a rockin' bod), his personality fit with Stiles'. His humour was dry and often missed, but Stiles loved the way Derek could be a sarcastic little shit. They traded barbs often but it never felt antagonistic, but more that they were on each other's level. Derek was an asshole, but he was caring. As much as he tried to put on a front of grumpy indifference, everything Derek did was an attempt to better the situation of his pack. Even when it came to Scott who was still fighting against his new nature and barely accepting Derek's help.

            "I just don't get it," Stiles said as they sat in Derek's sitting room as they played a game of chess. "How can he deny what he is? It's not so bad, but if he doesn't accept it his control will continue to be terrible." They had to chain him up for another full moon, he was better but still incredibly feral.

"He probably grew up hearing stories about all the evil beasts that people use to keep children in line, I can't imagine it's a good feeling to become one of them," Derek looked at Stiles while he spoke, ignoring the game in front of them.

"You guys aren't beasts," snapped Stiles. He was really getting sick of Derek depreciating himself. There was nothing wrong with being a werewolf! "Also we've been here a month, he likes the pack, how can he still think that they're wrong?"

            Derek shrugged and moved his queen into a defensive position. Stiles was thwomping him.

"Is it Allison? Does he think she can't accept him since she grew up training to kill werewolves?" Stiles asked quietly.

"Maybe," Derek conceded. "But Allison and Chris are good people, I-I didn't trust them at first, but they've proven themselves."

"Just.. if he hates being non-human.. what does he think about me? I'm not really human either," Stiles said sadly. That was his real problem with this entire situation, that and the risk Scott put everyone in by being non-compliant.

"Your majesty!" Allison burst into the room, the door slamming against the wall with her strength.

"Prince Derek--- It's Scott!" She panted, she looked harried and distressed. "He took Phillipe and left!"  
"What?" Derek and Stiles said at the same time. Derek bolted to his feet and Stiles followed quickly afterwards.

"What happened?" Demanded the alpha.

"We were having an argument," Allison explained, chewing on her lip. "I told him he should be taking his training more seriously a-and he got mad and left!"

"Where could he go?" Stiles was so mad at Scott right now, he could feel his anger growing as the trio rushed towards the entryway.  
"The forest, it's not safe there. He won't get far," Derek explained. He threw on an overcoat and opened the main doors to the castle. "Stay here, if I'm not back in an hour have the pack track me."  
"What? Derek, no!" Stiles protested but the Prince had already taken off at an impressive speed, way faster than any horse. It seemed like only a moment before Derek had cleared the bridge and was swallowed by the inky darkness of the forest.

"Fuck," Stiles breathed out, worry knotting in his stomach.

\-----

            Stiles paced back and forth in the entryway for what felt like hours. The rest of the pack had gathered as well, tense and waiting.

"Like how fucking ironic would it be if Scott was eaten by wolves?" Stiles fumed. He kept on alternating between intense worry and frustration at his friend.

"It's likely. He's just an omega and the wolves are desperate for food," Boyd explained. Great.

            Then, in the distance he saw movement. Stiles couldn't make it out but the wolves all launched ahead of him. When the figures came closer he could see Scott walking Phillipe with a body slouched over his saddle. Derek? Boyd ran ahead and took Derek off the horse before running at full speed back to the castle. Stiles couldn't swallow as his throat felt tight as he looked upon the unconscious alpha.

"He's hurt, but he's fine."   
"Put him in the sitting room," Stiles ordered. He did not like the look of the gashes on Derek's forearms that had been slashed through the coat.

            Boyd put Derek in his customary seat in front of the fire place and helped Stiles strip him of his heavy outer layers. He then went to stoke the fire while Stiles called for cloth and hot water. At some point Derek awoke with a groan.

"Derek?"  
"Stiles?"

"Yeah buddy, it's me." Stiles sat at Derek's feet with his cleaning supplies and bandages while Derek sat stiffly in the chair from pain. When it became clear that Derek was okay, Stiles concentrated his anger at Scott for putting the Prince and himself in danger into cleaning and dressing Derek's wounds.

"I can't believe he did that!" Stiles shouted while dabbing at the gashes on Derek's forearm.

"Ow," complained Derek.

"Shut up, these need to be cleaned." Stiles continued to dab, not caring for the comfort of his patient.

"I'm-- You're just trying to help! He doesn't have to an asshole, Melissa taught him better!" Dab dab dab

"Stiles--" Derek complained weakly.

"Who does he think he is? What if you weren't feeling so generous?" Dab dab dab.

"Stiles.."

"You are doing your best and I am sorry this is happening," Stiles dipped the cloth in the hot water and continued.

"Stiles!"

"I think it's because he's worried Allison likes him less which isn't true at. all." Dab dab dab.

"STILES!" Derek shouted loudly.

"Wha--" Stiles said.

"I've healed already," Derek said, looking at his forearm which was now perfectly smooth skin.

            Stiles looked down and blushed, "Oh." He put away his cloth but remained in his seated position at the Prince's feet."Oh… Well, um, I-- even if he doesn't say it. Thank you, it means the world to me," he said honestly.

Derek smiled softly at him, "it's no problem."

"Um, hello?" Came a timid voice from the door. Scott.

Derek stood up somewhat stiffly but stayed where he was. It was up to the one lower on the hierarchy to come to him.

"I, uh, just wanted to say I'm sorry," Scott said, scuffing his boots against the carpet. "You've done a lot for me and I realize-- I'm uh, I'm ready submit," Stiles eyebrows shot up and he met Scott's gaze for a moment. Scott kept on refusing to become one of Derek's betas. This was a problem according to Derek because it meant Scott's wolf would have a harder time accepting the Prince's authority and Scott wouldn't be able to rely on pack bonds to strengthen his control.

            Derek walked over to Scott and flashed his eyes red at him. He placed his hands on Scott's shoulders, "are you sure?"  
"I'm sure," Scott nodded and looked serious. Stiles held his breath.

"Kneel," Derek commanded and Scott dropped right away. Derek walked behind him and extended his claws before plunging them into the back of Scott's neck.

"Ah!" Scott cried out, and Stiles scrambled to the other side of the room and kneeled in front of his friend. He looked up at Derek but the alpha's gaze looked past him. After a moment, Derek withdrew his claws and Scott slumped forward into Stiles' arms.

"Is he okay?" Stiles asked Derek who had stepped back. Derek nodded.

"M'fine," Scott slurred a bit, leaning back up while feeling the back of his neck. Already healed. Scott eyes shot up and met with Stiles'.

"Man I am so, so sorry!" Scott exclaimed, throwing his arms around Stiles.

"You should be!" Stiles chided but hugged his friend with as much strength as he could.

"I'll be good from now on, I swear!"  
"I know you will, Scott," Stiles soothed. His eyes met Derek's as the Prince tried to exit the room to give the two boys privacy.

 'thank you' Stiles mouthed. Derek nodded and left.

"God, Stiles, it was so scary!" Scott wailed.

"Tell me about it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 2! I've added an additional chapter because I realized my outline needed to be broken up. Next chapter is the fluff before the storm. Thanks for the comments and the kudos! The only reason I'm writing this is because the reception of my last fic was so good it inspired me to write a bit more.


	3. Christmas Baby

            After Scott comes back everything is better. Well, better is relative. Stiles still doesn't have much of a lead on the enchantment, but Scott and Allison made up and the castle had an air of homey contentment that seemed to perk up all the occupants.

            "Stiles, there's something I-I want to show you," Derek said softly one day as they walked around the castle. "But you have to close your eyes," he explained. Stiles gave the Prince a suspicious look, maybe this was payback for all the pranking he did? That wasn't fair, Stiles legitimately thought  inking eyebrows onto the alpha looked good! He just was trying to guess was Derek was like… before. "It's a surprise," Derek added hastily. Oh well, might as well get it over with.

            Stiles closed his eyes and Derek took his hands and led him somewhere in the castle. Stiles' sense of direction wasn't great so he didn't really know where they were going but the subtle differences in the echoes of the castle told him it was someplace new. It was comforting though, holding Derek's hand. He didn't feel endangered at all even though most of parts of the castle Stiles hadn't explored were full of rubble and hazards.

            Eventually they stopped, one of Derek's hands left Stiles' and he heard a door open. As Derek led him into the room he could tell it was much bigger than the tall-ceilinged hallway they had just been in. It was also dark, as Stiles couldn't see much light through his eyelids.

"Oh my, your majesty, is this your bedroom?" Stiles waggled his eyebrows, eyes still closed.

            Derek snorted.

"Ok, no. Can I open them?"  
"No, not yet."

            Stiles was led deeper into the room onto a soft rug that he could feel under his shoes.

"Wait here," the alpha directed and Stiles felt the loss of warmth from his Prince's hands. Only a moment later he could hear the whooshing of curtains being pulled back and he could sense the light that filled the room.

"Now can I open them?" He asked.

"Alright… now!" Derek commanded.

            Stiles opened his eyes and lost his breath. It was a library! The room was huge, five stories high at least with intricately gilded stair cases leading to all levels of books. More books than Stiles had seen in a lifetime put together! The ceiling itself was art, with figures of cupids surrounding a dome inset. The ground floor was impossibly lush while still being inviting, with statues, paintings, globes, and a huge gilded fireplace. There was only one desk with two large and comfortable seats on either side of it, Stiles wanted nothing more than to read at that desk.

"I can't believe it," Stiles sighed. Holy shit, was he swooning? He felt distinctly like he was swooning, his knees were weaker than they had been a moment ago.

"You like it?" Derek asked hesitantly.

"It's wonderful!" Breathed Stiles, he could hardly take his eyes off the opulence.

"Then it's yours," Derek said eagerly. What? Stiles whipped his head around, meeting the Prince's stare.  
"Oh, thank you so much!" He grabbed Derek's hands again, he was at a loss at what to do otherwise.

"You're welcome," Derek replied, blushing.

"C'mon, show me around!" Stiles exclaimed and soon he was dragging the Prince over to one of the overlarge wall of books.

\---------------

"…and so there was no more story of woe than of Juliet and her Romeo," Stiles finished. He had been tempted to immediately hunt down more research material, but when he saw the Shakespeare section he couldn't resist.

"Well, that could have been avoided if they had communicated. Better that they didn't marry, the foundation of their relationship was terrible," complained Derek. He had pulled up a chair close to Stiles and had been using his arms as a pillow as he listened to Stiles read out loud.

"I mean, I mostly like it for the dick jokes," Stiles grinned, putting down the book.

"Read that one next," Derek said pointing at _Macbeth_.  
"What, can't you read?" Stiles joked. He didn't actually believe that, he'd seen Derek write enough letters to know that the man was literate.

"Of course I can," glared the Prince. "It's just.. these are my family's books and these," he lifted his claws, "tear pages too easily."

"Aw," Stiles said sympathetically. "Well I can read to you, or turn the pages if you'd like."  
"Thank you," Derek replied. Stiles loved his smile, fangy as it was.

\-----------------

            After that it was unspoken but clear that there was a.. thing between Stiles and Derek. The Prince had gifted Stiles his family's library, for moon's sake! The only problem was that Stiles was still no closer to lifting the curse, and Stiles felt guilty.. cavorting with Derek while his progress seemed to only move sideways rather than forward. He'd found a two thousand year old bestiary in the library though, which was really cool.

            Still, Stiles took way more liberties with touching Derek and it was always reciprocated fondly. Stiles had even noticed a few times Derek scenting him with brushes of the werewolf's hands on his neck and wrists. It was obvious that this thing between them was mutual, but to what extent Stiles still wasn't sure. Stiles was pretty sure he was in love with the alpha, and it made his heart stutter in his chest.

            One day after a vigorous snow ball fight involving the whole pack that Stiles had started under the guise of training Scott, Derek and Stiles laid together on a couch in the library in front of the fire. It had started with Stiles leaning into the Prince under the pretext of "sapping your werewolf heat" since Stiles was a baby when it came to the cold, but eventually it progressed to reclining as the afternoon progressed.  
"So what are we doing for Christmas?" Asked Stiles as he traced patterns into Derek's palm with his finger, with his head resting on Derek's chest he could feel the Prince's body tense at the question. "What's wrong?"  
"I.. I don't… celebrate. The others plan something small-- but it's not really something we do," Derek explained stiffly. He couldn't even look at Stiles who had turned his head so he could look at the alpha.

"Hey, no, you can tell me," Stiles soothed and Derek exhaled.

"It's just.. Christmas was when.. it happened," the werewolf's hand was frozen in Stiles' hair from where it had been stroking earlier. "…and it's my birthday."  
"Shitty birthday present," Stiles tried to joke but he could feel his throat tightening with empathy.

"Yeah," Derek choked out. "It's not.. right.. for me to-- I haven't celebrated since."

"Derek," Stiles breathed out. "No, don't do that to yourself," Stiles said, using his hands to cup the werewolf's face and turn it so Derek was facing Stiles. He looked so glum.

"It never felt right, to-to honour something that was so terrible for all of us," Derek scrunched up his eyes, "and I'll be turning 22."  
"One year after the deadline," Stiles realized.

"Yeah," Derek responded sadly.

"No, Derek don't do that," Stiles said, smoothing out Derek's brow as much as he could with his thumbs. "It's not your fault."  
"What?" Derek's eyes snapped open and he looked at Stiles, "if I hadn't--"

"Gonna stop you there," Stiles frowned. "Even if you had let her in she would have just had been able to plant her curse deeper into the castle, she had come for a reason. She would have done what she did either way," did Derek really think he was to blame?

"But because of me everyone is trapped here forever, and so many of the servants aren't even conscious," Derek said and Stiles could almost see the tears forming in the werewolf's eyes. "You have to realize what you're doing is futile."

"What? No Derek," Stiles said, frustrated. Even though he had been feeling down about his investigation he would never give up, "she was just a darach. A darach is just a shitty druid, and even though an aged spell is harder to break I won't stop. It might take years, but I'll still do it," Stiles said confidently. "And.. even if we don't…" Stiles added softly, "is it really so bad? I mean, I don't mind you all wolfy and the pack are comfortable."

"You.. don't think I'm a monster?" Derek asked, bewildered. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"No Derek, I don't build snowmen with people I think are monsters," Stiles scooted up Derek's body so he could better look the werewolf in the eyes. "Besides.. I.. we, we.. y'know?"  
"Yeah," Derek agreed. He cradled Stiles head as their faces moved slowly together. They shared breath for a moment before Stiles gently, ever so gently, kissed Derek.

            They stayed liked that for a long moment, hands trailing along each other's body until they both settled back into cuddling in front of the fire, neither speaking much for a long while.

\-------------

            After dinner that night Derek walked Stiles to his bedroom and they shared another kiss goodnight before Derek made his way to the west wing. His nostrils burned with the smell of ash and dark magic as he climbed the stairs.

            His shoulders slumped as he entered the monument room and he saw no tell tale glow from the enchanted rose. Instead it sat there as it had since Kate was in the castle, upright in the bell jar but bare of the petals that laid black and withered on the table below it.

"Nothing's changed?" Came Lydia's soft voice from behind the Prince.

"No.. but, I'm in love with him, I thought--"  
"I think he loves you too," the banshee said. "It just might be too late."  
"Yeah…" Derek nearly choked on his despair. As much as he trusted Stiles he didn't have the druid's optimism, they were never going to be free. "Yeah, I just had hoped."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments, next chapter there's going to be a fight.


	4. The Nemeton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a breakthrough, but so does Kate Argent.

            The breakthrough happened on Christmas Eve. Stiles was going through the parts of the bestiary that Lydia had helped translate in the Library, which was now festively decorated after Derek caved and admitted that it would be nice to celebrate Christmas properly.

"Ah ha!" Exclaimed the druid as he scribbled notes furiously on some parchment.

"What?" Questioned Derek who was adding more tinsel to the book shelves (Stiles wore him down, and the castle was more decorated then it had ever been.)

"I.. found a thing!" Stiles scooted his chair over and patted the cushioning of Derek's vacated stool, "come here, let me talk this out at you."

            Derek jumped down from his place on the second floor balcony and glided over to Stiles like the efficient predator that he was. When he sat down Stiles pointed at the bestiary, "ok, so I'm a druid, right?"  
"Right."  
"But I'm self-taught, or, back at home I had some training but then mom died-- and, you know, and then-- books!" Stiles explained disjointedly. Derek was used to this speech rhythm when Stiles talked about things he really knew, but the Prince had never heard Stiles speak like that in regards to his research on the enchantment.

"Anyways, druids who aren't emissaries or aren't solo can work together. They create these things called nemetons which usually are these big old trees which druids can channel power through," Stiles babbled. Derek could see a diagram of such a tree in the bestiary, shown with deep roots and bare branches. "Basically nemetons act as power conduits, druids can perform rituals in order to give it power and to power themselves… but if a druid is alone the ritual usually involves a sacrifice."  
"What, like a virgin?" Derek scoffed. Pretty cliché.

"Doesn't have to be, but there are a lot of rituals where virgins can be used, which by the way makes me feel pre-eh-tty unsafe," Stiles coughed and blushed.

"Yeah, me too," Derek agreed, not looking Stiles in the eyes.

"Wha--? Oh, 'cause, yeah of course," Stupid! Stiles eyes scrunched up with embarrassment thinking about how he had absolutely no tact before redirecting his attention to his notes. "Anyways, those druids usually end up corrupted, at which point they become darachs. There are ways for a druid to make a sacrifice innocently, like in self defense, but even if they start out with the right intentions the power surge can make the druid turn darach fairly quickly. Absolute power… yada yada yada."

"I didn't know about nemetons," Derek supplied. It was interesting, though he didn't know how it related to their current issues.

"I did, but I didn't think about alternative forms of a nemeton until…" Stiles pointed to his translated notes, _"a druid 'r druids can anch'r their pow'r to any f'rm of nature, though the longevity of trees maketh t the most wondrous and most traditional of anch'rs. "_

"So it doesn't have to be a tree?" Derek asked.

"No!" Exclaimed Stiles happily, "it could be something like, I don't know, a rose?"  
"The rose is a nemeton?"

"I'm 99% sure! You guys being cursed means you've been low-key feeding the nemeton for years, and could potentially feed it forever and the darach doesn't need to do jack-shit to maintain it," Stiles scoffed. "My bet she would be effectively invincible if she left it here forever, but little did she know old Stiles was on the case!"

            Derek smiled, his heart lifting somewhat but still untrusting of the idea of the curse ever being lifted. "So what does this all mean?"  
"It means the darach is lying liar who lies and all of this 21st birthday stuff is bullshit. She just wanted you to stop trying to fight it after a point. I'm not sure how to revive the rose yet without being all evil, but I'll figure it out sooner or later. Once I revive it **I'll** be in charge of the nemeton and can break the curse," Stiles nodded, satisfied. "She'll probably drop dead wherever she is, won't that be a surprise?"

            Derek was about to say something, his mouth half opened to add to the conversation when a high-pitched scream pierced the air.

"Lydia!" Derek shouted, he bolted from his chair and out the door of the library. Stiles followed him as closely as he could, but the werewolf was much faster.

            By the time Stiles reached the hall where Lydia was the rest of the occupants of the castle were already huddled around the shaking girl. There didn't appear to be anything wrong with her physically, no shattered glass or tell tale signs of a fall. It was with that detail and the unnatural feeling of Lydia's scream that Stiles realized something.  
"Is Lydia a banshee?" He asked nearly inaudibly. Derek met his eyes and nodded slowly.  
"Fuck," Stiles breathed out before running past the huddle and towards his bedroom.

            By the time he got to the stairs that led up to the east wing he could feel Derek following closely behind. Stiles choked and couldn't speak for a moment until they entered his bedroom and had closed the door. Stiles went to the desk by the window and picked up a piece of paper he had read over and over again.

"I got this f-from my dad the other day," Stiles explained, shoving the letter in Derek's hands. "He was going to come up here for Christmas but then in this he said he couldn't and he wasn't feeling well a-and," Stiles breathed in, shuddering. "I'm so worried, what if--?"

            Derek pulled Stiles into a tight hug and Stiles gripped Derek's jacket as hard as he could. "I can't lose him too," Stiles whispered. His tears wet Derek's neck and at that horrible moment Derek knew in his heart that Stiles was not just the man he was in love with, but his mate as well. His instincts should not have let any pack member, no matter how distraught, so close to his jugular. Yet here he was, letting his druid bury his face into the alpha's neck and not feeling threatened at all. It was the worst possible timing as Derek also realized that he had to let Stiles go.

"Wait here a moment," Derek said quietly. He gently removed Stiles from his embrace and only paused when he could feel the druid trying weakly to tug him back, "I have something that will let you see him."

            Derek ran as quickly as he could from Stiles' bedroom to his own. To be perfectly honest he had completely forgotten about the mirror, and he should have given it to Stiles ages ago. He'd put it away when he realized that the darach had only left the connection to the outside world as a taunt.  Derek found it buried in the bottom drawer of his wardrobe and he quickly returned to Stiles' room.

            His heart clenched when he saw Stiles filling the rucksack he had come to the castle with. Stiles paused with his packing when the Prince re-entered the room and the brown-eyed boy looked at him with sagging shoulders.

"Here," Derek said, putting the mirror into Stiles' hands. Stiles' forehead scrunched up in confusion as he examined it. "It can show you the outside world," Derek explained.  
"You've been holding out on me, Princeywolf," Stiles joked wetly.

"Show me the Sheriff," Derek directed at the mirror and he cringed as it flashed brightly with magic.  
"Oh my god," Stiles' eyes widened. As the image sharpened, he gasped. "Derek! H-he _is_ sick." Where was his dad? It didn't look like home, what was wrong? "I have to go after him!"  
"I know," Derek said sadly.

"But why can't you…? Oh," Stiles looked at him with something akin to shock. "You can't come with me," he realized.

"No," Derek confirmed. "I can't."

"I-I'll be back!" Stiles said, grabbing the alpha's hands, "it might take a while, b-but-- Scott doesn't even have to come. I'll go take care of my dad and bring him back here!"

"Do what you can," Derek tried to soothe the panicked druid. He didn't want Stiles to leave but if Lydia's scream was for the Sheriff he wanted Stiles to share his last moments. "Take the mirror so you don't forget about us.. about me."

"I could never forget about you," Stiles chided. "I **will** come back."  
"I know you will."  
            Stiles gave one last firm nod before grabbing his bag. As they made their way to the entry hall Lydia and the others were waiting for him solemnly, he could see Phillipe just outside the open doors with filled saddled bags.  
"We packed you some supplies, just in case," Lydia explained almost sheepishly.

"Thanks," Stiles smiled weakly. "It's not your fault, you know," he added quietly, though he knew everyone could hear him.

"I just, I forget I'm one of them… I haven't screamed since-- since," Lydia looked him in the eyes fearfully.

"Still not your fault," Stiles confirmed. The redhead took some comfort in the druid's reassurance and nodded thankfully.

"Mom should be able to work her magic with what we packed," Scott broke through the crowd and Stiles was thankful for his pseudo brother's strength as the beta hugged him. "Maybe she'll even want to come up when you're done," Scott said optimistically. "Just.. ease her into it, okay? The castle can be a bit much for those not in the know."

"Sure buddy," Stiles agreed, clapping Scott on the shoulder. He turned around and saw Derek holding Phillipe's reins. Determinedly Stiles stalked up to Derek and cradled the sad werewolf's face in his hands. "I will come back," he declared, kissing Derek firmly before taking the reins and swinging himself over the saddle. "I promise."

\-------------------

            The ride was frantic. Stiles could feel his face freezing as snow whipped passed his face, obscuring his vision. He was glad that the clothes from the castle were so well made or he would be more concerned with the dire weather.

            Soon he could see the clearing that held his house, Stiles barely let Phillipe stop before he dismounted and threw the saddle bags over his shoulder. He rushed into the house, heartened by the candle lighting the window but worried as he failed to see his father. He rushed into the Sheriff's room and froze as he saw his father's form depressed into the bed.

"Dad!" Stiles exclaimed, throwing himself onto the bed. The Sheriff coughed in response and Stiles could only be glad that his dad was still alive though he did not wake. Quickly the druid took out the supplies from his bags, glad to see a wide array of herb in addition to bandages, broths, and other things he could use to care for his father.

            He felt the Sheriff's forehead and frowned at the high fever. He left the room a moment to fill a bowl with cold water before dipping a cloth into it and wiping his father's brow.

"What happened to you?" Stiles wondered. His father was never sick, unlike his mother. He had a strong constitution and Stiles had never recalled his dad with anything more than a cold. Stiles examined his father, noting his sallow pallor, the way his skin reacted when the druid pinched the back of his father's hand, the odor from his breath…  
"They fucking poisoned you!" Stiles shouted with realization. Unfortunately for him, this seemed to startle the sheriff who came to with a coughing fit.

"Easy now, easy," Stiles tried to soothe while rubbing his father's back.

"Stiles?" The Sheriff questioned once the hacking died down.

"Yeah dad, me," Stiles smiled.

"What are you doing here?"  
"You said you weren't feeling well, so I came to check on you," Stiles explained. "It's a good thing too, I have just the thing to cure you, stay here." He would tell his dad after he had brewed a blend of herbs to counteract the poison. He was relieved that he had a near immediate fix for his dad's illness, but he was concerned how the Sheriff had been poisoned in the first place. Only hunters, druids, and other super naturals could use mistletoe effectively as a poison.

"Here, drink this," Stiles rushed back to his dad's bedside with the tea. The Sheriff drank it slowly but completely as he propped himself up with pillows.

"So you think I was poisoned?" The Sheriff asked, already looking better but Stiles knew it was just because his dad was actually awake. Stiles wasn't surprised that his dad had heard him.

"Yes," Stiles confirmed.

"I knew there was something off with them," the Sheriff swore under his breath. Stiles looked at him, confused. "Kate's been inviting a bunch of her friends to town. Kate is also the Kate Argent that Chris and Allison were talking about." Stiles gasped, annoying animal hunter Kate was actually Kate Argent? The woman hadn't actually lived in town all that long, so it was possible that although Allison had said she had come from another village that Kate could have relocated.

            The Sheriff continued, "I've been taking most of my meals at the tavern, but when I started trying to exert my authority I knew they were only pretending  to behave."

"This is why you should eat home more!" Stiles shrilled, "when this is all over you are coming to stay at the castle and are going to be fed properly. Even if they're just enchanted cutlery, they know how a design a balanced diet."

"Fine, we'll bring Melissa, though. She's misses Scott," Stiles nodded at his dad's suggestion.  
"Wait, Kate's friends… they must have been hunters," Stiles concluded.

"That's right, freak." Stiles and the Sheriff snapped to the bedroom door where Kate Argent and a mob of people didn't recognize stood. How the fuck did she get in without him hearing? "I can't believe there's been an emissary right under my nose this entire time," the huntress sneered.

"Fuck off," Stiles snapped back. "Pretty shitty hunter if you need all your pals to take on one itty bitty druid," he mocked.  
"Oh, we're not here for you," Kate stepped forward and grabbed the back of Stiles' cloak while one of the larger hunters grabbed the Sheriff. "When you and your little friend disappeared we figured at least one of you had turned," humiliatingly enough, she was much stronger than Stiles as he struggled against her.

"Since the midwife and the Sheriff weren't all that choked up about it I knew that you two had survived," they were now on the top steps that led up to his house and Stiles' eyes widened as he saw the mob. They were holding torches and equipped with weapons, everything they needed to hunt werewolves except horses, Stiles noted. "So we potentially had two bitten wolves and a rogue alpha in my territory? Ha! So I called up some friends," she gestured to the crowd, "and organized a hunt."  
"You psychotic bitch!" Stiles spat. Kate wiped the spit off of her cheek and glared at him, they locked gazes for a long moment before Kate noticed something.

"What's this?" Kate asked, grabbing the mirror from where Stiles had tucked it into his belt.

"No!"  
"This is from that castle," the hunter realized. The look on her face turned to anger as she bit out, "show me the beast!"

            To Stiles' horror, the mirror immediately switched to Derek's face. He looked forlorn, staring out the windows of the solarium where he was surrounded by the entire pack. Fuck, she knew everything now.

"What an ugly freak."

"Is that the werewolf prince?"  
"I thought you said you killed him, Argent!"

"Gerard was right! We should have confirmed what you said!"

"We should have listened to Gerard before he died!" The shouts from the mob came in a loud cacophony and Stiles could feel his panic building.

"It doesn't matter!" Kate screeched once the look of surprise fell from her face, "all this means now is we know where they're located!"

            Kate snapped her fingers and Stiles felt someone else take hold of him and lead him down the stairs followed closely by the Sheriff, "We'll lay siege to the castle and kill them all!"

"No," Stiles whispered, his stomach plummeting with dread.

"Yes," hissed Argent as she moved through crowd who seemed energized by their leader's proclamation. "Lock them in the cellar!" She commanded and Stiles was abruptly thrown down into a dark hole, "maybe we'll even bring back their heads and show you what happens when you associate with beasts!"  
            The Sheriff landed indelicately on top of Stiles and the cellar doors slammed closed above them. Kate said a few more things, her words too muffled by the door to be understood, but the mob responded in unison to each declaration. Stiles got up and shoved his shoulder upwards in an attempt to dislodge the doors with no success. For once he hated how sturdy the oak doors were and wished his dad hadn't been so concerned with security that he fitted the cellar with a lock. He bashed at the door a dozen more times, dismayed as he heard the mob move farther and farther away.

            The Sheriff, still weak from the poisoning put a hand on his son's shoulder to stop him, "it's no use, Stiles."

"It's all my fault," the druid sobbed. "She would have never known that Derek and the rest were alive if I hadn't brought the mirror, what are we going to do?"  
"Now, now," soothed the Sheriff, letting his son lean into him for comfort. "They would have found the castle anyways on their hunt," Stiles shrugged in response. "We'll figure out something."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woops, added another chapter! Or rather, I was too optimistic in my length estimate. The original idea I had for getting Stiles back to town was literally this in my outline:  
> -Then-- a letter! Stiles has to go back-- his dad is ill! Oh no, what if it's like my mom??  
> -Stiles, use this-- my mirror! Oh no the Sheriff is asleep in the middle of the day, he might be sick!  
> -be back soon babe.  
> -Stiles gallops away.


	5. Tale as old as time

"Open. You. Stupid. Door." Stiles grunted as he once again attempted to force open the doors to the cellar.

"Son, maybe you should try a different tactic," suggested the Sheriff who was now mostly recovered from his poisoning.

"I can't give up, dad!" Exclaimed the druid, "even on foot they've probably made it to the castle already and they'll be taken by surprise and Der-- wait a minute."

            Stiles moved from the doors to a cobwebbed corner of the cellar.  
"What?" Questioned the Sheriff who was perplexed by his son's sudden change in direction.

"Did you know we had an axe down here?" Stiles grinned smugly as he brandished their way out.

"Strangely enough I forgot I put that down here," admitted the Sheriff. "But it's dull, it will take forever to chop through."

"It would, but I'm a druid and god damn it if I can't enchant this thing and axe down the door!" Stiles proceeded to draw a circle in the dirt floor and placed the axe in the center. He then grabbed some of his magical supplies that he always stored in the cellar and made a fine powder out of them before scattering the mixture over the axe. Then using his spark he created a small fireball that ignited the axe and caused the circle to glow.

"What did you do?" The Sheriff asked. He was answered when the axe floated into the air on its own and then proceeded to chip away at the door at a far faster speed than any human could. It seemed like mere moments that the axe descended upon the cellar doors and the axe falling lifelessly to the floor once its task was complete.

"Yes!" Exclaimed Stiles as he scrambled out of the cellar, pulling his father behind him. "Phillipe!" Stiles said as he noticed the horse had not been taken by the hunters.

"Well that's good luck," the Sheriff decided. "Take Phillipe, I'll follow as fast as I can."

"Are you sure?" Questioned the druid.

            His dad nodded, "I'll just slow you down."  
"Okay," Stiles agreed. He ran over to Phillipe who seemed skittish but still rideable. "Stay safe!"

\---------------

            Stiles arrived to the castle under siege. He could see broken windows, fire, and other tell tale signs of the hunters' havoc. Racing across the bridge he didn't even pause to dismount, instead allowing the large horse to break open the doors with his hooves. Stiles' eyes widened as he took stock of the state of the castle. He was worried that he would see his friends captured or killed, but instead he was greeted by something entirely different.

            It seemed that the castle itself was entirely weaponized. The druid saw suits of armor engaged in battle with a trio of hunters who looked as though they were flagging. He saw the chandelier raising to the ceiling but could see squashed bodies below it, none of them werewolves. It made sense that the curse had a defensive aspect, Stiles decided. The darach's power could not be maintained if the people inside the castle could not be there to feed it.

            As Stiles moved through the castle he finally saw evidence of his friends and he felt relief though he had no chance to greet them as he dodged hunters.. or more accurately hunters' bodies. It seemed that he was entering a melee that was already in his friends' favour. In the dining hall Stiles watched as Erica and Isaac brutalized a pair of hunters, growling though they had only a little access to their beta forms. He saw Boyd throwing more hunters out of windows and therefore over the cliffs that dominated the west side of the castle.

            When he reached the hall that split the east and west corridors he was blocked by the Argents and Scott fighting… a monster?  
"Stiles!" Shouted Scott as he dodged a swipe from the red eyed beast. "This is the thing that bit me!"

"The alpha?" Stiles had completely forgotten about what had turned Scott in the first place, he thought maybe it could have been an alpha passing through, not--

"It's Peter, Derek's uncle," Allison said while notching another arrow and launching it at the alpha. "He was in a coma, we thought he died when Kate came!"  
"Shit!" Stiles ducked as Chris Argent grabbed Stiles and threw him in the direction of the west corridor. "We can distract him, go find Derek."

            Stiles agreed and ran as fast as he could up the steps, thankful that the alpha didn't see him as something to chase. True to his word, Stiles had never been up this way and he was glad that he had abstained. The ground was charred and felt unstable under his feet as he looked in each room. Derek was right, there was structural damage.

            As he moved further down the hallway he could feel the magic that permeated the castle grow more concentrated and powerful. It was then that he realized that he was nearing the nemeton, the rose. Ignoring all other rooms in favour of following his instincts, Stiles could feel his heart beating faster, his own magic wanted to reach out to the nemeton and interact with it.

            As he entered the monument room his eyes zeroed on the rose, unmolested though its casing laid about it shattered on the ground. Stiles had only a moment to muse on how that came to be when he could hear a pained shout coming from outside. Stiles ran to the balcony, only to see a wolfsbane tipped arrow land squarely in Derek's shoulder.

"No!" Shouted Stiles as Derek stumbled back while Kate Argent advanced on him. The look on her face was deranged and Stiles panicked.

"Derek, climb!" Stiles commanded. The alpha startled and looked up at the druid, he followed the order quickly though, using his claws to find purchase on the steep roof. The Prince almost reached Stiles who stretched out his arm to offer the wolf his hand when everything went to shit.

            The first thing that happened was Kate Argent plunging her knife into Derek's side. Derek roared in pain and would have fallen if Stiles hadn't somehow grabbed Derek by the cloak. The second thing that happened as Stiles hauled the Prince over the railing was Peter side blinding Kate off of the roof and back down to the lower level.

            Stiles' attention was divided as he watched the monster alpha tear into Kate who was putting up a pretty good fight but was clearly outmatched. She kicked Peter off the edge, but the monster grabbed a gargoyle and swung back up. The huntress grabbed an ornament and bashed the monster in the head a few times, dazing Peter for a moment before she kicked him square in the chest. The wolf retaliated with a roar, slashing at her arm, forcing her to drop her weapon. Peter then lunged at Kate's neck  and picked her up by it and dangled her above the abyss. As much as Stiles wanted to let Peter exact his revenge in that way, he couldn't.

"No!" Screamed Stiles. The wolf's eyes shot up to Stiles and he noticed that Peter's eyes flashed between blue and red. Kate continued to kick and struggle against the wolf but Peter paid her no mind. "Do it on the rose! We can use her as a sacrifice to the nemeton!"

            There was a moment of stillness and Stiles held his breath. He could hear Derek's shallow breath slowing and Stiles knew he would die if Peter threw Kate off of the castle. Stiles blinked and all of a sudden Peter had scaled the side of the castle with Kate's neck still in his grasp. Stiles rushed over to the rose, surrounding it with his energy and muttering a few words in order to prep the nemeton for the ritual. The wolf dragged Kate through the glass and held her over the rose in a parody of what he had been doing a moment before. Stiles muttered a few words and stepped back when he was satisfied that the nemeton would accept that he was the one making the sacrifice, not the darach.

"Ok..now!" One moment Kate Argent was glaring at him while she struggled to breathe against Peter's hold, the next moment a spray of blood erupted all over the rose as Peter's claws tore out her throat. Stiles nearly gagged but was distracted as a strong thrum of magic coursed like a dynamite explosion through the castle. The druid managed to stay grounded but Peter and Kate's body were thrown out of the room and off the balcony. Stiles could only feel relief as Derek seemed to remain laying on the ground where the druid had left him. Another thrum pulsed through the room and Stiles realized something was very, very wrong.

            The magic felt corrupt, and Stiles realized that he should have slit Kate's throat himself as the rose began to reform, but instead of red the petals were black. His own magic reached for the nemeton and Stiles had to consciously prevent himself from accepting the dark power it offered him.

            Stiles ran to the balcony to get some distance from the rose, only to choke again as he saw Derek's lifeless body. Black veins coursed all throughout the Prince's body and Stiles realized that Derek was poisoned beyond his abilities to cure.

"No!" Screamed Stiles, "no I am not giving up on you." He could feel the tears forming in his eyes. "Think Stiles, think! How can you  change the nemeton's magic so you can use it?" He almost wanted to use the nemeton as is, to become a darach if it meant saving Derek from certain death. But he knew in doing so the curse would never be lifted and he would be the one feeding off them, he just couldn't do that to the people he loved.

"I love you, you asshole," Stiles declared as he thought of one last possibility to prevent the thrumming of the nemeton corrupting the entire castle. "This needs to work, because you better believe that if it doesn't I'm going to spend the rest of my life mourning you."

            He grabbed the rose, flinching as he came into contact with the raw energy the nemeton gave off. He stalked back to Derek, painfully landing on his knees as he crushed the flower between their hands. Without any finesse he poured all of his love and acceptance for Derek into a bruising kiss with the unconscious wolf.

            There was a beat, and then a thrum from the rose that felt different from the unnerving feeling from before coursed through him. Another beat, and Stiles pulled back, still holding the rose between their hands. Another beat, and something exploded.

            Stiles launched himself over Derek to protect him as a bright light erupted from their joined hands. He had to shut his eyes in case the light blinded him but he felt infused with an unseasonable warmth. It seemed like forever passed before the light receded and Stiles could open his eyes.            

            The first thing he noticed was that it was daytime and the dark stormy clouds had dissipated. The next thing he noticed was that rather than cracked and charred, the balcony now shone brightly and was repaired and polished. The third thing he noticed was the body beneath him was breathing. Stiles' eyes snapped to Derek's face and he was startled by a lack of recognition.

            Instead of the furrowed hairless ridge and large sideburns that marked Derek as a werewolf, Stiles looked in wonder at the alpha's thick eyebrows and deliberate two-day stubble. The druid was shocked as he noticed Derek's unmistakable hazel-grey eyes staring fondly at him.

"Stiles…" He started gently, "it's me."  
"I know it's you!" Stiles declared, wrapping his arms tightly around the wolf who lifted him up and swung him around. "Oh my god, I am so happy just--" Stiles pulled back slightly, looking his lover in the face. "It worked! And, no offence, but I was so worried I wouldn't like your human face because I am pretty damn attached to wolfy you, but you are so damn hot and I have no idea what to say because you almost died and I am just so rel--"

            Stiles was very happy to be stopped by Derek's mouth descending upon his own. Oh and his teeth! Derek had bunny teeth! This made kissing much easier than before.

"Stiles! What happ-- Oh my god, gross," complained Scott as he and the others ran onto the balcony.

            Derek and Stiles pulled away from each other and looked at their pack. Not one of them looked injured and all were present, even someone who Stiles realized had to be Peter Hale. He felt good, he felt better than good as the people who had been cursed for twelve years were now free. It wasn't just Derek who had suffered from the darach using them to feed her power, and Stiles had no doubt that she had a nasty surprise when the nemeton's power was ripped away from her. Stiles could feel the purified power of the nemeton coursing through him and he can't believe he dismissed the power of true love when he had first come to the castle. Turns out it was pretty powerful, enough to transform an unpure sacrifice.

            Stiles' heart felt full and he smiled widely at Derek who smiled back.

 _Finally_ , he thought. _Happily Ever After._

\------------------

"Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme.. Druid and the Beast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! That's the end of my very first chapter story. It was interesting! I notice that this story has way more subscribers than bookmarkers which is funny but I'm glad people want emails about this thing! I may release it all at once at some point in the future, but I haven't really made up my mind about that yet.  
> As always, your comment and kudos are inspiring.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd


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